


Ice on the Lake

by LilyRosetheDreamer



Series: Journey [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Genji just wants him to be kinder to himself dammit, Hallucinations, Hanzo is self-destructive, I did my best to tag with as much as possible, Mentions of Blood, Psychological Trauma, Self-Destruction, Symmetra and Mercy save the day, Trauma, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, mentions of illness, sorry if this upsets anyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 02:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8352310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyRosetheDreamer/pseuds/LilyRosetheDreamer
Summary: Hanzo destroys himself and smiles as he does.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you talk about too much Overwatch with friends like @ozwyn! I keep coming back to the Journey series, whoops. Takes place around the time of Vitality and Melancholy of Hanzo Shimada. Please enjoy!

_Something shifts behind him and Hanzo turns his blank gaze to his father as the elder sits beside him._

_“Cannot sleep, my child?” he asks softly, brushing aside thick hair from a face that’s losing the chubbiness and innocence of childhood.  
_

_Hanzo nods curtly in response, his hands curled around the warm ceramic cup in his lap._

_“My son, you must try and sleep,” his father soothes. “You cannot run a clan with no fuel,”  
_

_“How can I keep the demons away from me?” Hanzo blurts out. “The dragons…they tear my dreams apart,”  
_

_“Oh Hanzo,” his father sighs, eyeing the purple tattoo on his own right arm as he draws him close.  
_

_They speak not of dragons that night._

* * *

Hanzo hasn’t slept.

He tears apart his little brother in his dreams and there are bloodstains on the walls, on his hands, behind his eyelids. 

He doesn’t move for a solid minute; when he does, it’s to stumble into the bathroom and turn on the tap.

Hanzo must wash his hands. 

Out, out damn spot. 

He works steadily and night slowly pushes into day, the sun rising and casting its beams through the window. Hanzo doesn’t notice until the alarm in his room starts screeching. He stares down at his hands, blinking away the last traces of red and closing his eyes against the fresh pounding in his head. 

A bad night usually becomes a bad day, in his experience. 

Regardless, Hanzo changes into fresh clothes and ties his hair up into its usual high ponytail, the silver ribbon fluttering gently as he leaves to head to the training facility. He doesn’t meet anyone and is thankful, for he has no patience for idle chatter and no idea what to say.

He must train.

He must improve. 

He must redeem himself. 

It is a work in progress and Overwatch might be the tool he needs to finally succeed. 

Brown eyes bruised from a lack of sleep check to make sure he is alone before he steps into the training room fully. The door slides shut with a gentle hiss and he blinks away black and white static. His stomach pinches, presumably complaining about a lack of breakfast and Hanzo waits until he can breathe again. Then he crosses the room and places his hand on the glass of the control panel.

Breakfast can wait. 

He has work to do and memories to purge. 

* * *

 

_“Hanzo-nii?”  
_

_The little boy tugs at his kimono and Hanzo winces._

_“Genji? What is it?”  
_

_“Hanzo, come and play! Mama said you need to rest now,”  
_

_Hanzo winces against another pin prick behind the eyes and tries to hold back tears._

_“I haven’t finished my exercises yet,” he mumbles and Genji stomps a foot.  
_

_“Anija!”  
_

_The sulky voice changes to worry when Hanzo closes his eyes. He’s not sure if gravity has pulled him down and he doesn’t know where he is._

_It hurts._

_“Hanzo? Nii-chan? Mama! Hanzo won’t wake up!”  
_

_Hanzo shudders and doesn’t feel hands picking him up from the gravel._

* * *

 

Hanzo hasn’t slept for for months. 

Years.

He thinks vaguely on that as another arrow flies into a moving target, embedded firmly in the center. He’s forgotten to eat properly lately, a troublesome thing that he should worry about later. Hot acid rises in his throat and he lowers his bow a fraction, immediately jerking it back up and shaking his head with a harsh frown. His stomach throbs but he can’t listen to that right now, not in a middle of a simulation. He won’t in a real battle scenario either - there’s never any time for indecision. 

Something tries to shoot at him and he rolls, reaching out and starting to climb up a virtual wall. His feet scrabble for purchase and a sweat-slicked hand slips, causing him to lose his grip completely and topple down to the mats. Pain shoots through tired muscles and his stomach wrenches, saliva flooding his mouth. 

He cannot be sick. 

He’ll get into trouble. 

His arms shake and sweat drips down his back and neck as Hanzo manages to stand. His bow is discarded on the ground haphazardly and Hanzo berates himself in irritation - this is unacceptable. He is not normally this weak so early in the training session. Swaying a little, he picks up his weapon and hits the wall for shelter as another laser whizzes past, shaking him out of his strange reverie.

“Athena?”

“Yes, Agent Hanzo?”

“Please turn the room temperature down,”

“It is at normal range,”

That’s strange. He’s sure that the hot air is licking at his skin. His fingers twitch and he apologises politely to Athena through slurred words before struggling onwards. 

He must ignore all distractions. 

It’s for the best. 

* * *

 

“Agent Symmetra?”

The former Vishkar employee looks up at the ceiling, pausing in her email typing. 

“Yes, Athena?”

“Your presence is the closest I could find on short notice. There is a problem in Training Room C,”

She’s not sure, but Athena sounds faintly concerned and that worries her in turn. 

“Are we being attacked?” she asks, even as she reasons that alarms would be blaring by now if that were the case. It is always best to be certain, however.

“No, Agent Symmetra,” Athena answers as Symmetra paces quickly through her door and starts to follow the winding corridor. “A situation has developed with another agent and medical assistance is required. I have already alerted Agent Mercy but she will not arrive as quickly as is needed,”

Symmetra picks up her feet, now understanding the urgency. If someone is injured, she will have to stay with them and keep them comfortable until Mercy arrives. 

No more is said until Symmetra hurries into the room in question. 

She stops short.

“Hanzo Shimada?”

A few arrows are scattered where the archer has fallen, his body curled tightly inwards on itself. She can hear him wheezing from here and she straightens her back. 

Professionalism first, curiosity and concern later. 

She carefully kneels next to him, noting the shivering and his hand still clutching his bow like a lifeline. There is a small puddle of bloodied vomit and Satya purses her lips - this is not a good sign.

“Mr. Shimada? Can you hear me?” she asks, her voice composed and cool.

He continues to shake, his eyes shut tightly and he doesn’t respond. Japanese slurs out from his lips at an alarming speed and she reaches out, managing to pull him into the recovery position despite his clutching arms. 

The sound of heels breaks the fragile silence a few minutes later and Symmetra feels internal relief. In all honesty, she’s awkwardly aware of the lack of knowledge she has about this man and has no idea how to comfort him as a result.

“Genji won’t be happy to hear about this,” Mercy sighs as she kneels down with a kit. “Oh, Hanzo, what happened here?”

Her voice is gentle and Symmetra watches, unsure whether to retreat now that her job is complete. 

“Thank you, Symmetra,” Mercy says with a smile and Satya nods. 

She can help carry Hanzo if needed.

* * *

 

_There’s a palpable tension in the air._

_“Genji,”  
_

_Hanzo’s been through this a thousand times and it never changes, no matter how much he screams and struggles._

_“Going to kill me, eh?”  
_

_There’s a blade in his hand and Hanzo’s raging, grieving, begging. That blade should never touch his hand, should never have been used in the first place._

_**Please.** _

_**Please listen.** _

_**Spare him, take me instead!** _

_Hanzo raises the sword high above his head and both he and Genji scream together. Blood stains the back of his eyes._

_Hanzo needs to get rid of it._

* * *

 

He can’t open his eyes. That explains why everything is dark.

Something branding his skin, burning it and he tosses his head, moaning quietly. He needs to get rid of the blood, he needs to get away from the burning. 

He’s killed Genji, can’t they see the blood?

Wild brown eyes rove the room and he registers a cold thing on his arm, a voice begging him to stay still in a quiet tone. 

“Hanzo,”

He squirms and then he’s being held down, his chest heaving.

He can’t stay here, not now. Genji is dead and he must leave. The clan can fucking crumble for all he cares. 

Crumble just like the last relationship he’s ever clung to. 

He wants it all to burn. He can’t breathe.

_Burn._

_Let him die._

Someone’s sobbing and he covers his ears.

* * *

 

“You had me worried. Bastion as well, come to think of it,”

Hanzo’s fever is gone and he’s staring out the window. He doesn’t understand why he’s being kept in the bay any longer - he needs to work, after all. 

Genji takes his hand and rubs it over with a metal thumb. Hanzo doesn’t respond, dull eyes taking in the view from outside. Mercy is the kind of doctor to recommend light and air as part of daily healing and refuses to keep her patients locked away. 

Hanzo is pretty sure he should be locked away anyway.

“Hanzo, Zenyatta sends his regards,”

Genji sounds…frustrated? Angry? There’s an edge to his tone.

“Hanzo, **look at me,** ”

He does. 

Genji’s visor is off, lying forgotten on the white sheets and he’s gripping Hanzo’s hand for dear life. It’s been a long time since he’s seen his little brother actually shaken. 

“You cannot keep doing this to yourself,” Genji hisses, releasing his hand and clenching his own into fists on the bed. “You’re wearing yourself out!”

Hanzo stares impassively at him. 

“You wanted me to redeem myself,”

“No, Hanzo, that’s what YOU want,” Genji insists, waving a hand around. “Do you not remember what you’ve done to your body lately or are you performing repression as we speak?!”

Hanzo shrinks in on himself a little. 

“Hanzo, this isn’t healthy at all! If you hadn’t collapsed when you did…what if I wake up one morning to find out you’ve had a heart attack?” Genji rants, standing and pacing as he does. “What if you fall in the middle of battle and get shot to pieces? I’ve only JUST found you, Hanzo! Why are you insisting on leaving me?”

Hanzo flinches as Genji’s fists strikes a metal table, his body too strung and worm to keep his composure. His hand comes up to cover his eyes and Genji stops, quickly taking his fist back. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, remembering himself. “But Hanzo, you are my brother! Do you not see how much you are hurting us both?”

Hanzo hunches into a ball and doesn’t answer at first. 

“I have to improve,”

Genji opens his mouth to argue and Hanzo weakly raises a hand, his face pale. 

“I MUST be better - I cannot afford myself anything,” he continues, his breathing quickening in panic at the thought of allowing himself to relax. “I must redeem myself!”

“Hanzo -,”

“I want to protect you,”

Hanzo’s voice is tiny and choking, a pathetic admission from a pathetic man. 

“But…I am no longer worthy, am I? Y-You have Zenyatta now,” 

He manages a gasp of a laugh and Genji’s moving across the room. 

“I am still not sure you are even real,” he explains to nothing. “I am still uncertain you are who you claim to be,”

Warm metal arms wrap around his cold frame and Hanzo has no willpower to resist. 

“Let me work, please,” he whispers brokenly. “At least allow me to…”

He doesn’t know how to end that sentence and the two brothers sit together, one huddled under the other. 

The truth is Hanzo doesn’t remember how to be human. 

And there’s nothing anyone can do for him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, yeah. There we go. I headcanon Hanzo overworks himself, but yeah, don’t worry about agreeing with that. Thanks for reading.


End file.
